Hours
by Yet Another Dark Rose
Summary: What could be more frustrating than waiting up for a lover in the middle of the night? According to Draco Malfoy, nothing. Especially as said lover isn't exactly sober. Slash HPDM. Fluff.


Hello again, this is my third story. It's a part of a 100 situations collection of oneshots, and this would be number 006. "Hours". Number 003. "Ends" and number 041. "Shades" are available on my user account.

Disclaimer: I do not own, JK does. Still, the plot is mine, no touchie.

* * *

Hours

Draco Malfoy entered his apartment. Yes, it was true, _the _Draco Malfoy lived in an apartment. Actually, he even shared one. Not that he would have it any other way, of course. To live practically alone in a giant mansion couldn't be good, it was probably the reason to why his father had gone mad.

He chucked the keys in the little bowl that stood on its table in the hallway. Harry had insisted on the bowl, he refused to put his keys on the table. Who would have guessed that the savior of the wizarding world was superstitious to that degree?

But it didn't really bother Draco, he actually thought of it as cute and endearing. Of course, he couldn't tell Harry about his thoughts on the subject, at least not without the risk of receiving a fist in his face, which was pretty understandable. Which man with any sense of pride would like to be called cute and adorable by his boyfriend? Handsome, stunning and beautiful was allowed, if his crimson blush was anything to go after. But cute was, according to Harry a word meant to describe bunnies and babies, and of course, which made him quite the hypocrite, Draco himself.

The Malfoy heir looked around the apartment and listened, it was very quiet. Although the place was pretty large, you could hear when anyone was inside. The lack of noise told him that Harry wasn't home yet. He furrowed his forehead in confusion, he had told Harry that he would be working late, and expected the young man to greet him when he finally got home. It was a kind of tradition, they waited up for each other and ate together in the middle of the night.

After throwing his cloak on the hanger he walked in to the kitchen. Too tired to whip something together he took out some of the deep frozen leftovers and put it in the oven, there were enough food for Harry too, if he planned on coming home any time soon.

Well, that didn't happen. Draco ate by himself for once, and cast glances at the clock. He had gotten home at eleven thirty, now it was half past one. Annoyed and a tiny bit worried he growled and got ready for bed. He twisted and turned in his bed, their bed for hours before getting up. He was furious at himself for not being able to sleep on his own, and furious with Harry for getting him used to sleeping with a warm body cradled within his arms.

Back in the kitchen he made himself a cup of tea and checked the time again. Four thirty. Harry was in for a big blow when he finally showed up.

A little over an hour later Draco heard sound of keys hitting the lock. The sound was repeated several times, meaning that Harry might be a bit off. The door finally opened, and he heard Harry take off his coat and shoes.

"Draco?" he heard Harry call from the hallway.

"Kitchen." Draco said with a cool voice that probably carried out to the hall, if the fact that he practically heard Harry wince was anything to go by. The blonde felt very proud over his tone in that moment.

The dark-haired young man slowly walked into the kitchen with his eyes on the floor. He fidgeted nervously with his hands and didn't look up. All in all, Harry practically screamed guilty. Draco felt a shiver of fear down his spine.

"What have you done?" he asked coldly, looking at Harry with a piercing glare.

"I'm sorry! I was a bit drunk, and afterwards I fell asleep on his couch! It was a mistake, I'm sorry!" Harry burst out and looked really regretful. In three strides Draco stood before him, using his height to intimidate the shorter male.

"On whose couch, _Harry_?" Draco's voice dripped of jealousy, much like Harry's that one time when Draco accidentally drabbed the wrong man from behind.

Harry looked up at him confused. "Ron's couch. Who else's?"

Draco's brain froze for a second. Then he laughed out laud, much of it due to relief. Harry had fallen asleep at his best friend, his _married_ best friend. He felt like an arse for believing that Harry would be unfaithful.

The brunette stared at him with confusion, then his eyes widened with realisation. He punched Draco's shoulder. "You complete moron! You actually _believed_ that I would cheat on you?"

Draco enveloped the other man and hugged him tightly. Harry didn't even bother struggle to get out of the grip. "Well, you didn't exactly express yourself very well there."

"Why would I go for anyone else when I got you?" Harry asked, and nibbled on the skin by Draco's collarbone that wasn't covered by the blonde's bathrobe.

"Why indeed?"

Harry rolled his eyes at the predictable answer. "Yeah, yeah Narcissus. Whatever you say, come on, bedroom's calling."

"You go, I'm not really tired anymore." Draco said and made a gesture toward the caffeine rich tea.

"I know." Harry wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Who said I was." Draco hurriedly ushered his lover towards the bedroom, when he stopped and peered at him curiously.

"What did you say about my mother?"

Harry rolled his eyes once again and dragged the other toward the bedroom. Neither of them wasted any more time talking that night.

* * *

"Are you absolutely sure?" 

"Yes Malfoy. Harry joined us at the pub for Seamus birthday, got a bit tipsy, then fell asleep on the couch at my place. He looked too cute to wake up. What, you don't trust him not to throw himself at anyone?" Ronald Weasley asked annoyed. Draco Malfoy's head had showed up in his fireplace early that morning, to ask him if Harry had gotten into any trouble the night before.

"It's not him I don't trust. It's everyone else." Ron could see the love and adoration on Draco's face as he said that, as well as the jealousy.

Harry was lucky.

* * *

And I'm finished, once again. This is starting to become like a drug to me. A goos, drug, like chocolat ( Don't ask ). 

Reviews will be deaply appreciated, and as English is not my first language I would like to know what I've done right and what I've done wrong. Flamers are welcome too, of course, but only if there's a point to them.

And I would like to thank Doors need lurve 2 for reviewing both of my other stories, as well as Keeping it Gangst-o for favoriting "Shades" and you who've reviewed the other two.

Now, go check out "Ends" and "Shades"

Narcissus was a young man who according to greek mythology fell in love with his own reflection and drowned while reaching after it in a lake.


End file.
